Worlds of Love
by R.N.Walker
Summary: Worlds may be different, but love is the same for all. A series of mostly fantasy short stories focusing on various platonic and familial relationships. Human names used.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters; those belong to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

* * *

"See anything yet, Arthur?" The angel some ways ahead scowled as they continued to soar through the air. He was in no mood to indulge the whining blue-eyed celestial right this moment. "It shouldn't be taking this long to find something. We've been flying for hours, and my wings are getting sore. It has to be here somewhere. You sure you didn't miss anything?"

"Oh do shut up already, Francis!" Arthur let a flock of albatrosses pass by as he waited for his partner to catch up. If it weren't for the fact Francis held a light grin on his face, Arthur would have sworn the annoying angel really was as useless as the others claimed. "We're flying over an ocean, need I remind you. I'd be hard pressed to miss anything in this vast space of nothingness." Francis chuckled.

"I was only wondering if those magical eyes of yours spotted anything _different_ yet." The angel with the green eyes glared.

"For the last time my eyes aren't magical; I'm just more easily able to detect supernatural beings than others. But I highly doubt what we're looking for is supernatural. For starters, you wouldn't be coming along if it was." Francis frowned. "And second, we would have been informed of it being so by an archangel."

The other sighed. "I suppose you're right. Still, all this soaring really is getting to be a bit much on my wings. Can't we find a place to rest?"

"If you're so desperate to rest, why don't you rest in the ocean? I won't stop you."

"You're so cruel, Arthur! How were you ever allowed to stay in Heaven?" Arthur didn't want to admit it but he was starting to get worn himself. They had been tasked to locate and eliminate the remnants of the Mercies– creatures created before Adam but deemed unworthy to live on Earth. Many of these fantastical beings weren't evil; on the contrary, they were comparative to being the prototypes of modern animals. They shared attributes between various species and expressed behaviors that were a mixture of the two.

But at the same time, Mercies were not well adapted to prosper on the planet. They rarely, if at all, reproduced, and they were extremely vulnerable to predators in even the most optimal of environments. Rather than let them continue struggling in a world where they'd suffer nothing but loneliness and fear, an order was spread to the low-ranked angels to purge all Mercies, sparing them from further hardship. A Mercy was a fortunate creature; if it lived a good life, it was guaranteed a spot in Heaven regardless of its belief.

"Can't you hold out for ten more minutes?" Arthur scanned the watery horizon. "Look there," he pointed to a tiny dark form, "I think that's land. Come on." Spreading their wings further, they gained altitude, letting the cool updrafts of the sea support them as it ruffled their feathers.

About halfway to their destination, Arthur heard Francis snort in distaste. "The sharks feasted well." The angel ahead looked down. In the water were the soggy and gory remains of two large fish. Both their upper portions had been completely torn away, leaving twin pools of blood expanding outward from the remains. Even if he wanted to, Arthur was unable to identify the species.

"What do you think they were? Dolphins? Other sharks?" They couldn't have been killed more than a few hours ago.

"Who knows, though I'm not aware of dolphins having scales." The other agreed, and the two soon enough made it to the island. It wasn't all that large; more of a skerry than a complete island. They landed on red-tinged stones. Standing on the ground, this place was perhaps just large enough for a tiny human settlement. "Ah! This is much better." Francis sighed as he folded his wings comfortably behind his back before taking a seat on a large rock. Arthur followed suit with the wings, looking mildly irritated they were taking an unauthorized break.

"We're not staying long. Let your wings rest, then we're leaving." He went patrolling around the island. How strange for this lone piece of land to be all the way out at sea. Maybe it used to be part of a larger landmass that sank into the ocean millennia ago. Who knew. He listened to the waves crash against the rocky bank, the rhythmic pounding loud yet oddly relaxing. He could just lose himself in the sound if he so desired.

He continued his stroll around the island in relative peace. He observed the foliage growing toward the interior– small trees surrounded by even smaller shrubs. Despite this, there was little vegetation on the island. None were fruit-bearing plants, and few could provide shade or shelter to larger beings like himself. He took back what he thought earlier—humans wouldn't be able to support themselves on this barren strip of earth.

"What the…?" Arthur, noticing something, ran over to the northernmost edge of the island, the only portion with a thin layer of sand. He could see a very thick line pressed into the sand leading from the isle's edge toward the brush. It looked like something had been dragged across here and recently. "Francis! Come here, quickly!" Within minutes the taller companion was there. He stared.

"What in the…what or who made this?"

"I'm not sure. Obviously something large enough to climb out of the ocean and up the side."

"Or perhaps thrown over by a powerful wave." He paused. "You wouldn't by any chance think this is the Mercy we're looking for. I doubt man has located this island before, and no animals live here as far as we can tell. Yet clearly something was dragged here."

"Yes, but what?" He followed the trail with his eyes to where it disappeared in the short grass.

Francis smirked. "Maybe a fish of sorts. Perhaps we were tasked to destroy it because it evolved out of its natural habitat."

"Shut it. That wasn't even funny." Cautiously, the two stepped into the brush. There was no telling what they'd encounter: maybe a tiny little mongrel or an aggressive monstrosity. But regardless of what it was, it was small enough to hide beneath the grass blades. Arthur ducked, bringing his voice to a hushed whisper. "There it is." Near the center of the island, held erect like a lone cover, a giant leaf covered the form of something. Muffled, faint, barely detectable pants could be heard behind it. Judging by the sounds though—

"There are two?" Arthur was just as surprised. They had only been informed of one Mercy near these parts. Perhaps the informant had been mistaken and there was really a family.

Arthur motioned for Francis to stay quiet, and they snuck up behind the flimsy structure. They were going to have to take the creatures by surprise. He held up a finger…two…

Now! Francis tore away the large leaf as Arthur leaped forward, ready to fight the creatures if need be to the—

But what he saw before him made him freeze instantly. These Mercies—the poor things!—were practically infants. Hardly past the toddler stage. But what really stung at his heart was that they were half-dead already. They struggled to get air, exhausting themselves further with their desperate attempts to fill their lungs with oxygen but unable to for whatever reason. There was no way they'd last much longer, these helpless, suffocating oddities. An even mix between man and fish. "They are," Francis gasped, staring at the defenseless beings, "Mermaids."

"Mermen," Arthur corrected, "And they're being cooked alive." Both boys' skins were scorched red by the sun's heat, dry and blistered to the point of peeling. The leaf they placed over themselves had done little to protect them. He bent low and scooped up one of the boys. His closed eyes tightened with pain at the touch. The angel took great care to wipe the sweat from underneath his dusty-blond hair. He was so angelic, even after suffering from the torment of the day star. Francis picked up the other.

"Arthur…" The angel addressed could hear the pain in his voice, "These are…we cannot…not to _children_ …" What were they to do? They were under direct orders to eradicate any and all Mercies located. But Mercies had been around since before man; they should all be fully-grown. And they rarely reproduced! Both were under the assumption they had been hunting an adult. So how could there be two…?

This wasn't the time to be thinking of that. "Give that one to me and go fetch them some water; I'll try to heal their burns. They'll die if we continue to stand here like twats." His companion obliged and nimbly handed the merman of fairer skin to him. Arthur felt a pang of guilt when the boy twisted in discomfort, but he held on to him firmly as Francis flew back out over the ocean. Summoning his holy energy, Arthur murmured a quiet prayer, asking for their skin to be relieved of ailments. The words he mumbled held within them power, and ever so slowly did the skin repair itself.

He was still praying when Francis returned, a long trail of water snaking through the air behind him. He twirled his hand, and the water formed into a ring around his friend. "Where are their gills?" Arthur carefully shifted the boys' neck, revealing the thin slits that were opening and closing almost spastically. Francis guided the liquid around them, and almost instantly the gills slowed to a rhythmic filtering. With another flick of his wrist, the angel had the remaining water shower the boys' bodies, especially over their tails and fins. They both had very gorgeous navy scales, though the younger child's seemed to have a very light tinge of lavender to them.

They nursed the boys out of critical condition until, after several tense minutes, their eyes slowly lifted. And once they were completely open and they took in the sight of two strangers surrounding them, the boys began to squirm. "O-oi!" Arthur couldn't hang on to both struggling Mercies. Thank goodness Francis caught the one slipping from his hand, the one with the purplish tail and now purplish open eyes. The other, the one with sky-blue eyes, slapped his tail against Arthur's leg.

"H-hold still, lad," Arthur said. The little Mercy hesitated. His brother was almost on the verge of tears. "We're…" He glanced at Francis, whose look said everything to Arthur. "…We're not going to hurt you. We promise. An angel never goes back on his promise." The brothers stared at him.

"…Wassa angew?" the one in his arms asked. Arthur almost melted at his voice. It came out slightly garbled by the water, but Heaven above his babyish voice was so innocent. "Wassa you?"

"We are angels," Francis spoke, and the merchild in his arms squeaked. "Don't be afraid, little one. We saved you."

"Naw bad?" The boy asked. His angel shook his head as Arthur held up the boy in his arms.

"Can you understand us well enough?" The one in his grasp nodded slowly. "Can you breathe without water?" He looked down at his tail shyly.

"Yessis. No wike dhough." Arthur gave a nod to Francis, and the latter gradually reduced the water around their necks. As much as they wholeheartedly wanted to keep it up, using holy energy was very draining on the spiritual body. No need for Francis to pass out.

The boys had a bit of difficulty making the switch from using their gills to their mouth to inhale and exhale, and it took an even longer adjustment for them to start breathing through their nose properly. "So what are your names?" asked Arthur. The child with blue eyes blinked.

"Wassa name?"

"It's what your parents call you." Wait, now that he thought about it—"Er…where are your parents?"

Tears welled in the boys' eyes, and Arthur wasn't sure he'd be able to calm two crying Mercies again. His partner quickly tried to shush them. "There, there. Dry your eyes, my loves. We just want to know where your mommy and daddy are."

"Lossa-Teed gawd 'em," wailed the purple brother. The angels were left puzzled.

"What's a Lossa-Teed?" Francis asked, but that only made the boys cry harder. Arthur frowned, concerned about the parents' whereabouts. Was a Lossa-Teed another kind of Mercy? Highly unlikely. So then what was a Lossa-Teed…

Lossa-Teed.

Lots of Teeth.

Shark.

"The sharks," he was almost afraid to utter. The second angel stiffened. The boys continued to cry. So that was what those remains were. The adults stared pityingly at the children.

"They really are alone now," Francis muttered.

His friend, though, wasn't going to dwell on that just yet. One thing at a time. Forcing a gentle smile, Arthur began to rock the boy slowly in an effort to soothe him. "Don't worry now, Alfred." The boy in his arms quieted down to hiccupping upon hearing that word.

"Wh…whad?"

"You. Alfred. That'll be your name."

"H-huh? I hassa name? Alfwed?"

"Indeed. Now doesn't that make you happy?" Alfred had stopped sobbing by now. His tail gave the smallest wag of tiny delight. His brother looked up at Francis imploringly.

"M-me?"

"Ah? Your name? Why, you shall have the name Mathieu. Beautiful, no?" Mathieu nodded, his cheeks blushing lightly with embarrassment and pride.

"Whad do I dos wid my name?"

Arthur was the one who answered him. "Nothing really. It's a source of identity. When we call you by your name, it means we wish to speak to you personally. It creates a form of connection between us." Mathieu swished his tail.

"Wassa your names?"

"Arthur."

"Francis." The angels answered with pride. And Alfred and Mathieu turned in their embrace, hugging for dear life the two who had saved them.

* * *

Months passed. Years. But not a single day went by where Arthur and Francis did not return to the island of their adoptive brothers. They ultimately decided to keep the twins a secret from the other angels; and while leaving every day for nearly the past twenty years was highly suspicious, they just couldn't stay away from the lonely Mercies. They had become their responsibility. The brothers were learning so much, always thirsty for knowledge of the paradise in the clouds their saviors returned to each evening. Many times they asked to go with them. But, sadly, a living Mercy was forbidden from entering the Kingdom.

When they weren't questioning the world, the two would swim for hours on end around their island. Their fear of going further out to sea was understandable, but they couldn't deny their innate desire to play in the waves. Their fins had matured completely to those of adult fish, and their tails were flexible and strong, allowing them to leap and twirl in the air like dolphins. One feature the two guardian angels hadn't noticed until later was the development of the long fins on their backs. To Arthur, they reminded him of the wings of the supernatural creature humans called the fairy.

"Did you see, Arthur? Did ya'?" The angel in question glowered at the youth. That last leap had ended with Alfred belly-flopping into the water, in an attempt to create the largest splash possible. And now the angel was soaking wet from halo to toe.

"No, I missed it completely," he uttered sarcastically. Alfred pouted.

"Aaw. Now I'll have to do it again so you can see." He dived underwater. As he had a few seconds before the merman would return, Arthur took the opportunity to retreat into the sky where Francis was waiting. Three…two…one…

"Yeehaw! Huh? Where'd he go?" He glanced to his brother sunbathing on the small island; the latter hadn't at all been bothered by the splashing.

"Up there," was the calm response as he pointed. The older brother looked upward, shielding his eyes from the sun.

"Hey! Why'd you leave? You had the best seat!"

"Are you daft? I'm drenched! Besides, I saw you, didn't I? Isn't that good enough for you?"

"No," was the immediate pout, "You were supposed to see it down here." Arthur only scoffed.

"Trust me, I didn't miss anything important from here."

"Dude, I wanna know what it's like to see from the air." He stretched his back fins, and they opened like sails. The glossy thin membranes reflected the light, making them almost shine with radiance. Alfred flapped, but like all the times he tried before, no matter how hard he tried, they just wouldn't get him airborne. The merman fell back into the water with a splash. "Why don't my wings work like yours?"

"Because those aren't wings," Arthur explained for presumably the hundredth time. "They're fins. You use them for swimming, not flying."

"Then why are they on my back like yours are? Francis said these were our special angel wings." Arthur's eye twitched. So he still believed that story Francis told them when they were younger?

"Don't worry about it. Balcony seats are a bit overrated," Mathieu's guardian joked. He watched as Mathieu sat up and crawled to the island's edge. "Anyway, it's about time for us to go. We need to head back." Arthur sighed, knowing the other was right. Alfred climbed out of the water, dragging his tail across the sand as the two angels swooped down onto the island. They bent low enough to give the two young mermen loving embraces, Francis even giving Mathieu a quick kiss on the forehead. It would be another full day before they could spend merely another hour together.

"Be safe," the two angels said in unison.

"We will," the brothers responded in tandem. The boys released themselves from their saviors' arms and watched as they flapped into the sky. Then the two slipped underneath the water's edge, heading to their underwater nest that was carved just underside the island.

Francis sighed happily. "Our little boys have certainly grown up. I wonder what the future has in store for them." When Arthur didn't respond, he tut-tutted. "Arthur, sooner or later we will no longer be able to visit the island. You know as well as I do that it won't last much longer." Around ten years ago the duo realized how much higher the water was along the edge. Over the weeks since, it slowly crept over the side and headed more inland. As of right now, over half of the skerry was already submerged.

And it really was only a matter of time until it was gone and Arthur and Francis would not be able to visit. Without any place to land, there would be no reason to travel there. Masters of the air they may be, but that did not mean they could fly indefinitely.

And they never told the boys how they were always worn whenever they reached the island. The mermen knew of their existence as Mercies and how other angels would try killing them if found. They accepted the fact they were more than likely the last of their kind, and though that was reason enough for their guardians to spare them, other angels would likely see it differently. In fact, because they couldn't repopulate would be an even greater excuse to eliminate the twins.

So to keep the other angels off their trail, the two took the longest path they could find to the island. It was a lengthy flight, over two hours of nonstop flying, but to the two spiritual beings who saved the precious lives of twin Mercies, it was well worth the effort.

* * *

Two weeks. That was all it took for the ocean level to rise exponentially and drown out the rest of that little rock. Arthur and Francis were horrified to discover this upon their return when they spotted Alfred and Mathieu swimming around what used to be their home. No words could be said as the angels hovered there, gazing down at the spot in the sea where there used to be their sanctuary but was now as bland as the rest of the waves.

Alfred's head popped up from below the water and he waved his guardians down. "Arthur," he said once his angel approached, hunched so close to the water his toes practically skimmed it, "Mattie and I decided…well, it was a while back actually. We didn't want to admit it but we knew this would happen one day. Anyway, we had already agreed that once our island disappeared, we would go too."

Arthur started. "Go? Go where exactly?"

"With you!" The boy practically leaped out of the water. "We decided we'd join you up in Heaven. Maybe you could tell your boss to bend the rules just this once and allow a living Mercy—well, two—to go up. Then all you'd have to do is fly us up there." The green-eyed angel shook his head.

"That won't work, Alfred."

"Why not? Are you scared the other angels will hate us? Look, we won't mind being discriminated, if that's what you're worried about. As long as you're there, we'll be fine; right, Mattie?"

"He's right." When he spoke, he sounded less childish than his brother. "Please don't go. We know you're going to have to leave us with the island gone now, and we don't want that. Call us selfish and spoiled Mercies, but we don't want you to leave. I don't know what we'd do without you."

"I'm sorry Mathieu, Alfred," Francis spoke, "But we cannot. It is a command no living Mercies enter the Kingdom. I assure you, if there was a way we could let you in, we would in a heartbeat." He swooped lower to the group.

"Then why don't you live with us?" the older twin suggested, almost pleadingly to his angelic brothers. "We could find a new island that's far away, and you can stay there with us."

"The other angels will grow suspicious if we did that and will come looking," reasoned Arthur, "And believe me, Francis and I searched everywhere for another island for you two. There aren't any, I hate to say, that are at least habitable in this ocean."

"Are you saying we have to move on?" Arthur's heart silently wept for them as they cast fearful looks toward the ocean, already apprehensive of what lurked in the great beyond. The two angels nodded mutely, solemnly. Arthur barely caught the shadow of Alfred's hand under the water drift towards his brother's. It put his mind only a little at ease to know that at least they would be staying together.

"Then…" Silence again met the makeshift family. No one wanted to be the one to say the dreaded words.

And no one did. Without even a goodbye, it was Arthur who suddenly twirled on the spot, pumping his wings as hard as he could to gain speed needed to get away from there as fast as possible. He could sense Francis flapping to catch up to him. He didn't care. He skimmed close to the water, his teary vision gazing down at the blurring blue-green waves beneath him. Nearly twenty years with the boys, and this was how they were going to separate? Salty tears rolled down his cheeks, mixing in with the ocean as they fell off his chin. He didn't even attempt to stifle his cry.

Francis soon caught up, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Arthur felt the hand tense every couple of seconds; his friend was holding back his own sobs.

They had come to love their children, their Mercies, their brothers during their relatively short time together. It wasn't fair at all! What says He for saying these creatures weren't worthy of a life? They loved and laughed and played and wept like every other being on this planet. Yet they had a place in neither Heaven nor Earth. They had a family that was once destroyed, miraculously restored, and now destroyed again. They were undoubtedly creatures worth pitying for. But for the oh-so-different reasons they had been led to believe.

They flew on, slowing in speed but gaining steadily in altitude. Arthur wiped the tears from his eyes. It would be a painful flight home.

"Arthur!"

He turned his head. Alfred and Mathieu were speeding after them, leaping out of the water as they torpedoed to catch up. Their scales glittered beautifully in the sunlight, the angel noted. He was going to miss how the water sailed off of the streamline tail and shone like jeweled droplets in the air.

The older twin yelled out to them with each leap. "Arthur!…Francis!…Promise us…once we move on…you'll never forget us!" The two didn't hesitate.

"O-of course," Arthur vowed for the both of them, his voice breaking slightly, "I swear to you, Alfred, Mathieu, we shall never forget you! Know and remember that we're always your brothers!"

"And promise," Mathieu called, "That we'll meet…again one day…the four…of us."

"Yes, but where, love?" Francis asked, "Where shall we meet? We can't enter the water nor you the sky." Neither brother said anything. But Alfred dove under the waves, and for a split second the guardians feared he swam off. A moment later he erupted from the waters, his back fins opening completely, stiffening, and catching the cool ocean gale. Alfred glided higher into the air, just below the angels' altitude, his hand outstretched.

For one surreal moment, both air and sea were united on one plane.

"Then how about halfway?"

Arthur was speechless, taking in the sight of the Mercy here in the air with him. Hair like the sand, eyes like the sky above, scales glimmering like the water below. A creature not like him and yet still his kin. His brother—an angel of the sea. He bent low to grasp the offered hand. And he swore,

"Let's meet halfway."


End file.
